Behind the Shadows
by taylaca
Summary: Arthur goes on a quest without Merlin and finds himself facing all kinds of deadly trouble, not least of which being the powerful sorcerer named Emrys who just won't leave him alone. Lots of magic and BAMF!Emrys.
1. Prologue

**This story is set about 2 weeks after the events of season 4 episode 6 (A Servant of Two Masters).**

 **The prologue is Merlin's POV but the rest of the story is Arthur's POV.**

* * *

 **Prologue**

This was getting ridiculous.

Ever since Merlin had taken a mace to the chest, gotten separated from Arthur by a rock fall, was captured by bandits and thought dead for a couple days, Arthur has refused to bring him on any of his missions outside of Camelot. At first Merlin didn't mind being left behind on a couple of hunting trips (which he hated going on anyways) and one of Arthur's dull surveys to map patrol areas. He figured that Arthur would just be overprotective for a short time and then as the memory of Merlin's injury faded he would revert back to the old ways.

Not that he would ever admit that he was leaving Merlin behind because he was worried about him. He had come up with reasons so unbelievable Merlin wondered if he should be insulted that Arthur seemed to think he would actually buy them. Having been on every single hunting trip with him for the past 6 years or so, Merlin couldn't imagine how he was supposed to believe that he couldn't go on this one because Arthur couldn't return from a hunting trip without his slippers warmed up and waiting for him. Arthur hadn't even worn his slippers in years and Merlin was supposed to believe that he needed to stay in Camelot to warm them for Arthur's return? It actually made Merlin feel better about some of the less believable lies he told when he couldn't think of anything better to make up on the spot.

Merlin didn't really mind. He felt kind of touched that Arthur cared about him enough to worry. That is, until Arthur had announced his intent to ride into the forest of Magnaroth to retrieve the leaves of the Japnus tree, while Merlin stayed behind in Camelot. Hunting trips and patrol mapping were usually pretty safe so long as Arthur didn't go too far from the castle, but if Arthur thought that he was going into a forest infested with magical creatures and inhabited by bandits without Merlin, he had another thing coming.

The reason for the trip was a plague that was sweeping through Camelot. So far no one had died, but Gaius warned that those infected would grow weaker and weaker until a cure could be obtained. After a bit of research he found that the only cure was an extract from the leaves of the rare Japnus tree, which grew on the East side of the forest of Magnaroth. Arthur had claimed that Merlin was needed in Camelot to help Gaius care for the sick, while he rode out to get the cure with a company of knights. It didn't help that all the best knights of Camelot were out on a patrol to the north and wouldn't be able to accompany their king on this mission.

Yes, it was getting ridiculous if Arthur thought he could just leave Merlin behind and still expect to survive his overly dangerous missions. Well, screw that, thought Merlin as he resorted to his good old "follow Arthur" strategy.

Fortunately he had recently perfected his mastery of tracking spells or this would be a lot harder, considering that Arthur had left a whole half-day earlier than he had told Merlin he was going to, probably to make sure that Merlin wouldn't follow him.

Merlin couldn't help feeling a hint of vindication amidst the horror when he found Arthur alone and tied up on the ground in the middle of a camp of bandits.

Yes, Arthur couldn't last a single day without Merlin at his side. And now it was rescue time.

Usually Merlin was very good at coming up with ways of subtly using magic to save Arthur with him being none the wiser, but with Arthur surrounded by what looked like at least 50 bandits, Merlin's ideas were, for once, not very forthcoming. That is until he spotted a cloak that had been hung out on a tree branch near the edge of the camp and a plan started to formulate with a somewhat less subtle approach to using magic to rescue Arthur.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

He was really glad that he hadn't brought Merlin.

It had been bad enough to watch the five men he had brought with him fall one by one to the bandits, and he didn't think he could bear to have watched Merlin also be killed in front of him, not after the scare he had when he had thought Merlin dead just two weeks previous. The fact that Merlin was safe back in Camelot this time was at least some comfort to him as he sat disarmed, restrained, and surrounded by bandits.

Not that there was really much comforting about this situation but he could grasp for anything that made him feel better at this point. Having gone through every possible escape scenario and come up with nothing, he had to think of something to occupy his mind anyways. As hopeless as his situation was, he was actually finding himself get almost bored as the bandits took their sweet time deciding how best they could cash in on the capture of the king of Camelot. Arthur had actually resorted to counting the bandits (there were 63 of them) before they had finally decided to bring him to King Oden and ask for some kind of bounty. It was well known that Oden wanted nothing more than King Arthur's death and they figured he would pay them handsomely for delivering Arthur to him. While Arthur had to admit they probably had struck on the most profitable course of action, he was personally less than pleased with their conclusion.

As the bandits were discussing whether it would be easier or more difficult to bring him if they knocked him unconscious first, they were interrupted by a new voice. It was a voice unlike any other Arthur had ever heard; it was unnaturally deep and seemed to echo as though the person were talking inside a cave.

"Let him go!"

Arthur and the bandits all turned to see who the voice had come from. A man in a long black cloak was standing at the edge of the bandit's camp. The cloak, which was faded and worn, obscured all features of the man, leaving Arthur with nothing but a general impression that the man was tall and at least fairly thin. Not an inch of skin could be seen; the sleeves were long enough to cover the hands and although the sun was shining into the clearing and at least part of the man's face should have been visible below the hood, it was completely obscured by an unnatural darkness.

"Who are you," the bandit leader called out.

"My name is Emrys, and I demand that you hand the King over to me at once." His voice still had that eerie quality to it as he spoke.

The bandit leader just laughed, and then without warning, threw a dagger at the cloaked man. The dagger stopped midair about a foot from the man's head, slowly turned itself to face the other direction, and suddenly, with more speed than should have been possible, flew straight at the man who had thrown it and imbedded itself in a tree inches from his head.

"Release King Arthur and I will let you live."

Arthur felt his throat tighten. This man was a sorcerer. Arthur had dealt with many sorcerers in his time, usually ranging from the weak ones who could be easily overpowered by a knight to the stronger ones who required many knights to take them down. And then there were the sorcerers that Arthur had come across only a few times in his life who had seemed nigh on untouchable. Perhaps it was the downright creepy voice, the dark cloak obscuring all features, or the fact that he had used magic without so much as a word or a gesture, but Arthur had the distinct impression that this was one of the latter kind of sorcerer. He had thought that it was bad enough when there were bandits wanting to hand him over to his death. Now a powerful sorcerer wanted him for reasons he really didn't want to think about. At least his death at Odin's hands would have been straightforward and honourable.

The bandits nearest the sorcerer were backing away slowly.

"Kill him!" the bandit leader shouted, clearly frustrated by the cowardice his men were showing.

About a dozen bandits moved forward, raising their swords. Suddenly a sort of shockwave moved through the crowd of bandits starting with those closest to the sorcerer and knocking them off their feet, followed by those further away. As it passed Arthur he felt as though the ground below him had shaken violently, however, already being on the ground, he did not fall over. For a brief moment all of the bandits were groaning on the ground before they started moving again. Some of them stayed down but most were quickly getting back to their feet. Then one of them broke from the group and ran. As if this was a signal, every other bandit that had gotten back up turned and ran, ignoring their leader's shouts to stand their ground. When he realized that his men were more scared of the sorcerer than they were of him, the leader took one last longing look at Arthur and then he turned and followed his men.

The sorcerer, who had stood by and done nothing while the bandits fled the scene, started striding towards Arthur. Arthur suddenly wished that he had the option to flee as well. Running away may be a coward's move, but there were times when it was also the intelligent move. After walking around the bodies of the few bandits who had been knocked unconscious by the fall, the sorcerer raised his arm, revealing a pale hand, pointing directly at Arthur. Arthur swore. Then all the ropes binding him fell off. Not even taking a moment to wonder about his good luck, he scrambled to his feet, turned and ran.

He did not glance back to see if the sorcerer was following him, not wanting to slow himself even for a moment. It was at least encouraging that he hadn't been tripped up by magic or anything like that. He could only hope that the sorcerer hadn't expected him to run away the moment he had been released and hadn't had time to immediately give chase. Whoever the cloaked man was, he wanted Arthur, and whatever he wanted him for, it wasn't good.

Arthur kept running, wanting to put as much distance between himself and the sorcerer as possible to be certain that he had lost him. He didn't stop until his path was blocked by, to his utter horror, a serket. Great, he thought, just what he needed after escaping from 63 bandits and a creepy sorcerer was to face off with a giant killer scorpion. Now he understood why Merlin had been so panicky about him coming into this forest. He grasped for the hilt of his sword, only to find himself grasping at thin air. Of course, he remembered, the bandits had taken his sword. Slowing to a halt and backing away, he hoped that the serket would stay back and he could simply run in another direction. His hopes were shattered as he heard cracking of twigs behind him and spun around. There was more than one. Half a dozen serkets were crawling towards him from all different angles. He was surrounded. But that wasn't all. More and more were coming, filling the whole forest around him as far as he could see between the trees, until he couldn't count how many there were.

If Arthur had not been such a highly trained warrior he would have been on the point of panic. Even as it was, he could see no way out of this situation. He had no sword and there was no path to make an escape through the throngs of creatures that he knew could kill him with a single sting. Putting all his skills of strategy and crisis control to work he tried to think of some sort of plan that didn't end in his rather gory and unheroic death. He spun around to survey every angle and get the full measure of the situation and… what?! Almost startled enough to forget the serkets for a moment, Arthur stumbled back a step. The sorcerer was standing right behind him. When did he get there?! As if the situation wasn't bad enough as it was!

Ignoring Arthur's surprised reaction, the sorcerer focussed on the creatures, raising both hands in front of him he said, "Awerian hring bael onbryne."

A massive ring of fire appeared out of nowhere, completely surrounding Arthur and the sorcerer, so that he could no longer see the serkets. Arthur would have felt more reassured about his newfound safety from serket attack if he wasn't currently trapped with a sorcerer in a circle of fire so hot he could feel the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead already. Before he had a chance to even react to the new turn of events, the sorcerer reached out and grabbed his arm, raising his other hand towards one side of the flame wall surrounding them.

"Stángeat"

A gap appeared in the wall of fire, extending outwards as a sort of corridor of flames. The sorcerer pulled him forwards, running through the exit he had created. As much as he loathed the idea of following the sorcerer anywhere, Arthur certainly had no desire to be left behind. After a few moments of running over burned vegetation and serket carcasses, with walls of fire on either side of their path, they passed the end of the flames, continuing with the momentum from their mad dash further into what was now just forest before coming to a halt. Arthur pushed aside all thoughts of wondering how the rest of the forest had not caught on fire (which probably had something to do with magic anyways) to focus on what was most important now. He thought he had lost the sorcerer the last time he had run away but clearly he had underestimated the man. The sorcerer was now looking back at the fire, whether checking they weren't being pursued by any serkets or getting ready to cast some sort of spell to get rid of the fire Arthur didn't know. What he did know was that this would be his only chance to get away. Wishing more than ever that he had his sword with him, Arthur instantly formulated a plan that may not be ideal but was the best he was going to get in this situation.

He gave the sorcerer a shove from behind. He was extremely satisfied and slightly surprised to see the sorcerer stumble forward a few steps, trip on a root and fall flat on his face. Step one, perfectly executed. Now for step two. Arthur turned and ran. As soon as he got out of sight of the downed sorcerer he changed directions and ran to his left. He changed angles several times. There was no way the sorcerer was going to be able to follow him this time. Unless, of course, he used magic. Arthur really hoped that wasn't how he had been followed the first time because if that was the case he would never get away. But there wasn't time to worry about that. Right now all that mattered was running. He looked over his shoulder for a moment, trying to see if there was a black shape following him through the trees. Suddenly his foot struck on nothing and with a sudden sense of vertigo he realized with dread that he was falling; he had run off the edge of a cliff.

Looking down, he saw the ground far below. Much too far below. He knew in an instant that there would be no surviving this fall. After all that had happened to him today, all that he survived in the past, he was going to die here and now. His mind raced to thoughts of Guinevere, Merlin and his knights. He wished he could see them all one last time. So loyal, so brave, always seeing him as a person and not just a king. The things they had all been through together. He hadn't been falling for more than a few seconds before it had already felt like an eternity and he suddenly heard a sound on the cliff above. Automatically turning his head to look up he saw the dark shape of the sorcerer falling towards him as though in a dive. With the dark fabric whipping around him and the shadowy hood of the cloak somehow staying in place as if by magic (actually probably indeed by magic), the sight would have been terrifying if Arthur wasn't about to die anyways. He found it slightly ridiculous that even with only seconds left to live he somehow found the time to wonder incredulously at how the sorcerer was so intent on following him that he had actually jumped off of a cliff after him. Then he felt as though his body's decent was slowing. His speed decreased until he felt the ground gently appear under his falling back as though he had just lain himself gently down on the grass for a nap.

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the solid ground beneath him, hardly daring to believe that he was actually alive. He felt a strange urge to laugh. When he opened his eyes again he saw the sorcerer come into his vision and reach out a hand as if to help Arthur to his feet. Regaining his sense of alert crisis mode, he swatted away the hand, scrambled to his feet and backed up a few steps. Automatically reaching for his sword again, he had to remind himself that he didn't have it.

"What do you want with me," he said, trying to sound like he was in control of the situation despite realizing that he was unarmed and unable to escape from this sorcerer, who was clearly able to follow him anywhere with magic. If he was to be so completely at this mysterious man's mercy, surely he could at least be told why.

"I want you to stop trying to get yourself killed."

Well that wasn't the response he was expecting.

"I'm not trying to get myself killed!" he argued before he could remind himself that it would be best not to aggravate the sorcerer unnecessarily.

"I just saved your life three times in less time than it takes to saddle a horse! Either you are trying to get yourself killed or you are really, really bad at trying to stay alive!" He sounded incredibly agitated.

Arthur took half a moment to think about the fact that the sorcerer had just saved his life multiple times. He was actually kind of grateful, or he would be if he wasn't so worried about what purpose the sorcerer had wanted him alive for.

"What is it that you want from me," he asked again.

"What makes you think I want anything from you?"

Arthur gaped. Did this sorcerer really expect Arthur to believe that he had relentlessly followed him, even jumping off a cliff after him, and saved his life multiple times for no reason whatsoever? Sorcerers, honestly. Over the years, Arthur had come to realize that not all sorcerers were as pure evil as his father always believed. No, some of them were just downright befuddling, with motives so complicated Arthur had given up trying to understand the way sorcerer's minds worked. There was that druid that had given him the cup of life without even putting up a fight, while giving him cryptic warnings about how it was not a good idea for him to take it. Which in hindsight, it wasn't. And there was the sorceress who had spared his life, claiming that he was not destined to die at her hand, while simultaneously leaving him to die alone in a cave. One thing Arthur knew he disagreed with his father about was the claim that all sorcerers worked with simple motives of causing harm to innocents and spreading their evil. No, nothing to do with sorcerers could ever be described with the word "simple". It did not encourage Arthur to think that this was one of those sorcerers who couldn't give a straight answer to save their life.

"Why did you save me?"

"Are you really complaining about that?"

"That depends. What happens now?"

For the third time, Arthur reached for a sword that was not there, wishing he could look more threatening than he did at the moment.

"Now? Now, I imagine you will go back to Camelot."

Arthur blinked. That was it? He was allowed to just go? Maybe this sorcerer's motivations were even more complicated than he thought, but at the moment he wasn't complaining.

"I can't go back yet. I need to collect the leaves of the Japnus tree."

"What, on your own?"

"Yes!"

When did this conversation go from frightening to irritating?

"Why don't I come along? I could help."

"What? No!"

"Okay then."

The sorcerer did not sound fazed and Arthur had a sudden suspicion.

"You're planning on following me, aren't you?"

"No, of course not!"

Arthur wasn't convinced.

"Don't follow me!" he shouted, pointing at the sorcerer before turning and stalking off away from him. When he had gotten quite far away and looked back, the sorcerer was still standing in the same spot. This was slightly reassuring, but Arthur couldn't help but think that if the sorcerer really wanted to follow him, there wasn't much he could do about it.

If Arthur could remember the way back, he would have returned to the bandit camp to retrieve his sword. He was wishing more than ever that he hadn't abandoned it in his haste to get away from the sorcerer. Arthur tried not to think about the sorcerer as he made his way east, alone and on foot. He would drive himself crazy if he tried to puzzle out what the sorcerer's plan was. Clearly he didn't want the King dead, at least not for now, which meant that he had more important things to worry about. For example, the fact that he was unarmed in a forest infested with bandits and magical creatures, not to mention he was starving and not carrying any weapons to hunt with.

"Emrys," the man had said his name was. Despite Arthur's resolve to put the sorcerer from his mind he found his thoughts drifting back to him as he lay against a tree to sleep for the night. Arthur had trained himself to remember names once he had heard them, both to save embarrassing himself by forgetting the name of newly introduced nobles and visiting dignitaries, and to make sure he never forgot the name of an enemy. Arthur filed the name Emrys away for later. He could look into the records when he got back to Camelot to see if any knights had encountered him before. Or maybe Gaius might have heard of him. For now, he needed to sleep. He would have been able to drift off more easily if he had the comfort of his sword stuck into the ground beside him, ready to be grabbed at a moment's notice. As it was, he drifted into an uneasy sleep, his senses still on high alert.

Arthur was woken not by the sun, but by his warrior instincts. He must have heard something in his sleep because he knew instantly the reason he was awake was because there was someone or something else there. Reaching to grab his sword from beside him and once again being frustrated by its absence, he leapt to his feet, scanning the forest around him for danger. He heard a sound behind him and whipped round to find himself staring up at a giant centipede. The thing was thick enough that two men couldn't have wrapped their arms around it and, rearing up in front of him, it was taller than the great dragon had been. Not even taking into account those nasty looking pincers, the thing could probably kill him by just crushing him with its body. Was this forest just full of massively oversized bugs? Arthur quickly looked around for an escape route and found himself completely surrounded by the creature's many-legged body. Turning back to face the head, he had to quickly dodge as it lunged for him, the massive pincers striking the ground where he had been standing a moment ago.

Before the centipede could rear up for another shot, its whole body suddenly glowed as though encased in blue flames. The creature gave a massive shudder and fell stiffly to the ground, clearly dead, as the blue light dissipated. Relieved as he was to not be a centipede's dinner (certainly not a death worthy of a king), Arthur couldn't help but feel vaguely annoyed by what he suspected had just happened.

"Alright, you can show yourself," he said looking around for a man in a black cloak, "I know you are there."

After a moment of waiting, the man stepped out from behind a nearby tree. Arthur walked towards him, having to climb over the centipede's body on the way, and was intending to shout, "I told you not to follow me," at the sorcerer when he saw that the man was now carrying a sword – a very familiar looking sword – and what actually came out of his mouth was, "Hey! That's mine!"

"Yeah, I went back and got it for you," said the sorcerer, turning the sword around to hand it to Arthur by the hilt.

Arthur took the sword and immediately felt much better. There was nothing more comforting than having a sword in his hand.

"Are you hungry? I got some food and supplies from the bandit's camp," the sorcerer, Emrys, Arthur reminded himself, continued.

Since this Emrys didn't seem to intend him any immediate harm and he hadn't eaten in over a day, Arthur nodded and found himself following the sorcerer back to a small clearing where there was a bag of supplies and a small fire with a pot cooking over it. Besides, he thought to himself, Emrys was apparently just going to follow him anyways, and Arthur figured it would be better to keep the sorcerer in his sight. Maybe this way he could get some answers out of him if nothing else.

Emrys handed him a bowl of soup, which he gladly dug into. The taste was strangely familiar to him but he couldn't think why.

"Why does your voice sound like that," he asked.

"I used a spell to disguise my voice," Emrys replied after a moment's silence.

"Why?"

"A known sorcerer must always be on the run."

"Is that why your hood is enchanted to keep your face hidden?"

"Yes."

Arthur, who had found the strange voice and faceless figure to be nearly inhuman, was almost surprised to think of the fact that there was a person under there who, when he took off the cloak, would blend into a crowd with no one the wiser that there was a powerful sorcerer among them. Arthur felt a sudden urge to know what the man looked like. Maybe it wasn't even a man? If the voice was disguised, maybe it was a woman under there?

"Emrys," Arthur started seriously, hoping his question would be answered properly this time, "why do you keep following me and saving my life?"

Emrys poked the fire absently with a stick, "I keep following you because you can't seem to keep yourself out of trouble. And I keep saving your life because I believe you are a great king and you need to live for the good of the kingdom."

As touched as Arthur was by the sentiment, and as sincere as the man sounded, he felt that to believe that was his real reason would be too good to be true.

"I have never met a sorcerer who believed that I was good for the kingdom."

"The sorcerers who believe so generally are not the ones voicing their opinions to you."

"But why would someone practicing magic want a king who outlawed it?"

Emrys put down the stick and looked away from the fire, up at Arthur.

"The lives of those with magic have been much improved since you became king. While it is true we still have to hide it, we no longer live in constant fear as we did under Uther. You do not send out soldier to ransack people's homes in search of sorcerers, raid druid camps, or pay bounty hunters. When a bounty hunter came to you shortly after you were crowned king you sent him away and released the girl he had captured, claiming there was not enough evidence to convict her of sorcery. Those who practice magic should know that if they keep their heads down and do not use their powers to attack you, they can live in peace under your reign. Besides, there are more than just sorcerers to consider when looking at how you rule. In many other kingdoms where magic is practiced freely, people both with and without magic suffer from cruelly high taxation by greedy kings, and suffer attacks by raiders and slave traders because their kings do not protect them. They lose everything they have or even their lives to wars fought for the selfish aims of unjust kings. You are a king who truly cares for his people. You understand the struggles of every one of your subjects and do your best to protect and care for them. You believe that to be a good king is to be a servant to the people and have even been willing to lay down your life for that of a servant. The majority of your people, even many of those with magic, know that they are lucky to have you as their king and would willingly lay down their own lives to protect you."

Arthur stared at the man across the fire from him. He hadn't expected such an impassioned speech. In spite of himself, he found that he couldn't help being convinced that Emrys truly believed what he said. And there was something else, a strange feeling that Emrys seemed to know him incredibly well for someone he had never met before. Some of the things he mentioned, like Arthur's willingness to lay down his life for a servant, or the time he had released a girl caught by a bounty hunter weren't exactly secrets, but they also weren't things that he had proclaimed throughout his kingdom. He did believe that a good king was a servant to his people and he was sure that he must have voiced this belief several times but only to those close to him. Again, it was hardly a state secret but he was still surprised to hear what he felt to be his own thoughts quoted back to him by a stranger.

Then again, sorcerers often gave off the unnerving feeling that they knew a lot more than they should. Arthur wondered briefly whether they somehow used magic to watch things from afar before deciding he would rather not think about that.

Perhaps feeling awkward in the long silence following his speech, the sorcerer stood up, collecting the dirty dishes and set about washing them. The sight was slightly bizarre in contrast to how he looked while facing down 63 bandits or summoning massive walls of flame. Now the all-powerful man in the dark cloak with his face hidden by enchanted shadows had his sleeves rolled up as he scrubbed soup off the bottom of a pot.

If what this man implied was true, Arthur realized, there were many sorcerers living in peace among his citizens. Arthur had long known that his father's attitude towards magic was over-zealous, if nothing else. While Arthur had always maintained that magic was dangerous and should be banned for the good of the kingdom, all the evidence he had seen had pointed towards the sorcerers he had met being regular people with dangerous skills and no respect for the laws, rather than beings of pure evil who had lost all humanity as his father had claimed. He had come to see the war on magic as being not that dissimilar to any other kind of war, where each side believes in their own righteousness and the evil intent of the other. When he was very young his father had also claimed that all men from Mercia were inherently evil, that is until King Bayard had come forth and proposed a treaty. He had come to think of his father's claims about sorcerers in much the same way, as something that his father told himself to make it easier to carry out the harsh punishments necessary for the protection of the kingdom. However, unlike the war against Mercia, Arthur had firmly believed that the war against magic could never be resolved in peace. The hurt ran too deep on both sides. Arthur could never, in good conscience, allow magic freedom in his kingdom for fear that he could not protect his people against unfettered sorcery, and no sorcerer had ever shown signs that they would be willing to forgive the Pendragons for his father's purge and relentless killing of their kind. No, Arthur had always known that he could never trust a sorcerer, not because they were inherently evil, but because they were powerful in ways he could not combat and on the other side in a war that would never end. But now, he was faced with a sorcerer who claimed to have no resentment against Arthur, and who was also claiming that there were others like him who would rather live in peace than continue the fight of magic against might. Arthur had a lot to think about as he watched the sun rise and the sorcerer pack up the dishes and put out the fire, looking so much like Merlin that Arthur had to stifle a laugh.

"The grove of Japnas trees is not far. We should get there long before it is even midday."

So apparently the sorcerer was just assuming that he was coming with Arthur. Wasn't he even going to pretend that Arthur had a choice in the matter?

"What makes you think you're coming?"

"Can I come?"

"Okay, fine."

That was better. Now Arthur had given his permission. He wasn't bringing the sorcerer because he had no way of stopping the man from following him; he was bringing him because he had decided it was in his best interest. At least he could tell himself that now. He would feel better about it if he didn't have the distinct impression that Emrys knew exactly what he was thinking. He stalked off moodily towards the rising sun, not wanting the sorcerer to take the lead, and he could hear the man following behind him. Arthur reflected that in his whole life he would never have predicted that he would ever end up on a quest with such an unlikely companion.

* * *

 **Notes:**

 **I know Merlin disguising himself with a cloak and saving Arthur as "Emrys" has been done quite a lot but I really like those kinds of stories so I wanted to make my own version.**

 **If you are wondering why Merlin disguised himself with a cloak instead of doing an aging spell, it's because 1) Arthur thinks old!Merlin killed his father, and 2) the cloak thing is more impressive for bandit-intimidation.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Just as Emrys had predicted, it was not long before they came upon trees fitting Gaius' description of the Japnas tree. Emrys pulled a sack out of the bag he had taken from the bandits and they set about collecting leaves from the trees. When the sack was about half full, Emrys dumped his current handful of leaves in and looked at it appraisingly, "That should be more than enough."

Arthur was surprised by that comment, "How would you know?"

"What?"

"Do you even know what this is for?"

"Oh," Emrys sounded rather flustered all of a sudden, "I heard of the plague in Camelot and assumed that you needed these for the cure. If that is the case this should be enough to treat every citizen of Camelot twice. That is what you need these for isn't it?"

"The plague only hit three days ago, that doesn't leave much time for word to have spread. You've been in the citadel recently, haven't you?"

"I..." Emrys hesitated.

Suddenly things Arthur hadn't even been aware of before were coming together. The strange sense of familiarity that had been growing in the back of his mind the more he spoke with Emrys, the way Emrys spoke and acted as if he knew Arthur personally, the fact that he had gone out of his way to disguise both his face and his voice, and the way he became flustered when asked how he had known Arthur's purpose for coming here.

"You followed me from the citadel, didn't you? You live there, don't you?" Arthur voiced his realizations as questions as they came to him, each in turn, "I know you, don't I?"

Emrys hesitated for a long time. Arthur just glared at him, daring him to just try to lie his way out of this. Finally, Emrys gave in and with a sigh, simply said, "Yes."

"Who are you?"

"I can't say."

"Why not?"

"Arthur, magic is banned in Camelot. If you knew who I was, what would you do?"

Arthur had to think about that. He was incredibly unnerved by the thought that this sorcerer didn't live off in a cave or a hut in the woods or something but right in the middle of his kingdom; in the citadel itself where he had access to Arthur's people, including those closest to him. Emrys had answered "yes" to Arthur's questions including the one about whether he knew him. How well did he know Emrys? Did he see him on a daily basis? Speak to him? Or was he someone Arthur had only met a few times and wouldn't even remember the name of? Whoever he was, the thought of such powerful magic within his home, so close to him and his loved ones, sent chills down his spine. What would he do? As far as he knew, this man had never caused harm to him or anyone else. In fact, he had saved his life and given a passionate speech about how great a king Arthur was. It seemed hardly fair to execute him, or even to punish him, really. But then, there was certainly danger in having him around. He really had no guarantee that this wasn't all part of some extremely convoluted plot to gain power over his kingdom or that the man might one day decide to use his powers for such things. He had chosen to break the laws and learn the forbidden arts of magic, which meant that on some level he had a desire for power greater than his respect for the laws of the land. And Arthur had seen a glimpse of what this man could do, there was no way he could allow such a man to remain so close to so many innocent people. Of course, this was all theoretical, as he did not know who Emrys really was and he didn't think telling the sorcerer any of this would encourage him to reveal himself.

"If I swore not to execute you, would you reveal yourself to me?"

"Would you also swear not to banish me, imprison me, or otherwise keep me from continuing to live as I currently am?"

Arthur remained silent. He couldn't promise those things and he certainly wasn't going to lie and say that he would.

The sorcerer seemed to have been expecting that. He picked up the bag of leaves and turned back towards Camelot, "Come on, Gaius will be waiting for these."

Arthur wasn't going to give up so easily on the topic of the true identity of Emrys, "Do you know Gaius?"

"Doesn't everyone in Camelot?"

"How well do you know me?"

"Everyone in Camelot knows you too, Arthur."

"Not everyone in Camelot calls me Arthur."

"That is your name isn't it?"

"I do have a title too, you know."

"Has it occurred to you that maybe sorcerers never use titles?"

"In that case my manservant must be a sorcerer!" Arthur said, laughing at his own joke. Emrys didn't laugh. In fact he didn't respond at all. That was something anyways. If Emrys didn't understand a reference to Merlin's lack of respect for Arthur it seriously narrowed down the number of people Emrys could be, and mostly to people that did not know Arthur very well. That was reassuring. Or maybe Emrys just had no sense of humour. He was a sorcerer after all and they always seemed so serious all the time. Maybe he had offended Emrys by saying that someone like Merlin could be a sorcerer. If Arthur were a sorcerer, he would probably find that offensive.

"Do you live in the castle or the lower town?"

"Arthur, I'm not going to just keep answering questions until you can guess my identity."

"If you won't tell me who you are, how am I to know that my people are safe from you?"

"I have never once used my powers to harm anyone in Camelot, and I don't plan to either."

"How do I know you are telling the truth?"

"Don't you think you would have noticed?"

"Then what do you use your powers for?"

Emrys turned his hidden face back to look at Arthur, who had been walking behind him through the forest.

"For the good of the kingdom."

"And what exactly, does that entail?"

"I protect the people of Camelot and her king from those who would do you wrong."

Arthur stopped walking.

"You've been protecting me?"

"Yes, now come on, we need to get back as quickly as possible."

"How long?"

"How long what?"

Arthur started walking again.

"How long have you been protecting me? Protecting Camelot?"

"Does it matter?"

"How come no one ever noticed?"

"Well, I have saved your life four times since yesterday; you must have noticed that at least."

"But that wasn't the first time?"

"No."

"Tell me one other time you have saved my life."

Emrys didn't speak for a moment. Arthur waiting, assuming he was thinking, although he didn't know if that meant there were too many times for Emrys to choose from or if there were so few he couldn't think of any. Eventually Emrys did speak, "Do you remember when you went to the caves of Balor and were led to safety by a magical orb of light."

Arthur tried to conceal his surprise. Not only was that a long time ago, but the only people that he had ever told about that were Merlin, Gaius and Morgana. Unless it was one of them under that cloak, which was an utterly absurd notion, unless this was an incredibly elaborate plot of Morgana's, the only way that Emrys could know about that was if he had indeed been the sorcerer who had sent that light.

"That was you?"

"Yes."

"But that was more than 5 years ago. I wasn't even king then."

Emrys just kept walking without answering. Before Arthur had time to think of a new approach for his interrogation, he was distracted by a distant buzzing sound.

"Do you hear that?"

He stopped walking to listen and found the sound was growing steadily louder.

Emrys had also stopped.

"It must be beoworn," he said, sounding distinctly unenthusiastic about that prospect.

"What are beoworn?"

"They are like giant bees. They attack people or large animals in swarms, paralyzing them instantly with their stingers and then ripping them to shreds while they are still alive and taking the pieces back to their hives to be processed into food."

"Thanks for that detailed description. Why did it have to be bees?" Arthur asked, mostly to himself, thinking about how he had already had to face scorpions and a centipede. Couldn't the next overlarge creature trying to kill him be something different this time?

"Well this is the forest of Magnaroth. It is known for being infested with many kinds of enlarged magical bugs and insects."

"Great. Just great," Arthur sighed.

"Are you telling me you didn't know?" Arthur couldn't tell if Emrys was panicked or exasperated. Emrys continued, "Didn't you listen to anything Merlin was telling you before you left?"

That threw Arthur. So much for his brilliant deduction that Emrys did not know Merlin. Apparently Emrys knew the contents of Arthur's last conversation with his servant better than he did himself, considering he had been paying more attention to which of his clothes Merlin was packing for him than what the idiot was blathering about at the time.

"How do you know Merlin?"

"Arthur, this isn't the time! We are about to be attacked by a swarm of giant angry bees!"

Arthur grabbed Emrys' shoulder and turned the man around to face him, trying to see beyond the shadows of his hood, repeating his question in earnest, "How do you know Merlin?"

The thought that a powerful sorcerer was close enough to Merlin that Merlin shared the contents of his conversations with Arthur with him was currently eclipsing the knowledge of the imminent attack by magical bees of death. It was bad enough knowing that Emrys lived in Camelot, but to know that he was in a perfect position to target Merlin, manipulate Merlin, or enchant Merlin to get to Arthur through him was more than he could take. Only two weeks ago he had been nearly convinced that Merlin was dead and now he was finding out that Merlin was within the power of a dangerous sorcerer who had infiltrated his castle for at least the last 5 years?

"Get down!"

Emrys leapt forward, pushing Arthur to the ground just in time for a bee the size of a large dog to miss him and fly over both of them. Looking around, Arthur realized they were surrounded. He leapt to his feet, drawing his sword. Another bee rushed at him and he slashed at it. The bee dropped to the forest floor, dead. The other bees seemed to become instantly agitated, buzzing louder than ever and crowding in around Arthur and Emrys. The sky was blotted out by bees and in every direction Arthur could see nothing but the giant insects. There seemed to be no end to them. He could easily kill one at a time but the moment they all attacked in force, Arthur would be done for. For the first time since he had first seen the man, he was glad that Emrys was beside him. If he used the same fire spell that he used against the serkets it would trap all of the bees above them in the fire circle with them, and probably make them more angry and dangerous than ever, but at least it would stop all the bees to the sides.

As if by the word of some unseen commander, all of the bees nearest to them rushed forward from every angle to attack.

Emrys shouted, "Scieldan," and the bees suddenly bounced back as though they had hit an invisible barrier. While the bees were temporarily disorientated, Emrys turned to Arthur and shouted above the deafening buzzing, "Hold on to something."

It seemed Emrys wasn't thinking along the same lines as Arthur about using that fire spell.

Emrys started chanting, even as he ran forward a few steps to grab hold of a nearby tree, "Ic her accigie ænne windraes. Færblæd waw. Windræs ungetermed ge hier. Ic de bebeod mid ealle strangesse daet du geblawest ond syrmest strange."

Before he was even halfway through his chant, Arthur realized what was happening as strong winds started to blow. He belatedly heeded Emrys' warning and also grabbed firm hold of a nearby tree. The bees were having trouble maintaining balance, struggling against the wind. As the chant continued the wind grew stronger and stronger until the bees lost all control and were blown against their will by the winds the sorcerer was summoning. Arthur strained to keep hold of the tree, feeling his hair whipping back and forth and watching in fascination as the bees were all swept up in a massive whirlwind. The tornado of bees stretched as far up in the sky as he could see from this close up. Not a single bee had escaped the winds.

Emrys held out a hand and shouted, "Áflíegung!"

The bee tornado started moving away and out of sight. Arthur had just started to consider that if there were any bandits in that direction they were in for a very nasty surprise when he saw the tornado collapse in the distance and hundreds of bees fall from the sky. Yes, definitely a nasty surprise for any bandits over there. Why bandits lived in these woods at all was a bit of a mystery to Arthur.

"I hope there weren't any bandits over there," said Emrys.

Arthur laughed out loud. Apparently they had been thinking along the same lines. Then he remembered his earlier horrified realization. He made a quick decision and took advantage of Emrys' distraction to rush forward and pull his hood down to reveal his face.

At least that was the theory.

Arthur gave the hood an almighty tug and nothing happened. It was as if the hood was held permanently in place. Stupid enchanted cloak. Emrys didn't even seem phased, as though he had been expecting Arthur to do this at some point.

Arthur backed up and returned to the verbal offensive, "How do you know Merlin?"

Emrys shrugged, "I live in Camelot. A lot of people know Merlin."

Arthur paused a moment. That was certainly true. He supposed he had overreacted a bit, assuming that because he had spoken to Merlin that they must be particularly close or that Merlin was in particular danger from the sorcerer. Merlin probably chatted with half the citizens of Camelot on occasion. It could be almost anyone that Merlin had spoken to while complaining about how Arthur was ignoring his warnings about going into the forest. It could have even been a random passerby on the street who had heard him telling someone else. It wasn't like Merlin was particularly quiet while complaining about Arthur.

"Anyways, I just saved you from a swarm of giant killer bees. What more do I have to do before you will believe I mean you no harm?"

Arthur looked over at the path of destruction that the bee tornado had created - broken branches, the occasional uprooted tree, the ground torn up, and leaves everywhere.

"Just how easy would it be for you to destroy Camelot?"

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Just answer the question."

Emrys seemed to actually take a moment to think about it.

"I suppose it would be pretty easy for me. But what would be the point? I live there! Why would I want to destroy my own home? You could probably destroy Camelot pretty easily too if you put your mind to it. You are the king after all - you could just declare war on every neighbouring kingdom at once. There's a good reason why you haven't done that and why I know you won't do so in the future. It is the same reason why I haven't destroyed Camelot and I never will."

Arthur found himself staring at Emrys again. What could he say to that argument? He was finding it more and more difficult to deny the inherent goodness of this man. This man who had the power to destroy Camelot and yet chose to live there and protect it. This man who had dove off of a cliff to save Arthur's life. This man who had every reason to resent Arthur for his beliefs about magic and yet could practically spout lyric on how great a king Arthur was. This man who had so much power and yet kept it hidden and in check only to selflessly help other with it. How could such a man exist? Why would anyone go to all the trouble and through all the dangers of studying magic if they didn't have some great and terrible purpose for which they needed that power? Nothing about Emrys struck him as a man craving power, so how had he come to possess so much of it?

"Why did you decide to study magic?"

Emrys seemed surprised by that question and he didn't answer right away. Arthur was actually a bit surprised with himself. This was not a conversation he had ever pictured himself having with anyone, and yet he so desperately needed to understand this man; this puzzle who stood before him.

"Come on, you can tell me on the way back to Camelot," he said, trying to budge Emrys from the stupor he seemed to have fallen into. Besides, Gaius needed those leaves.

They started walking, Emrys still silent as though considering how to answer. It seemed a bit odd to Arthur, after all it shouldn't have been that hard a question for a sorcerer.

When Emrys finally spoke, it didn't sound like much of an answer to Arthur's question but Arthur found himself listening intently regardless.

"Your father believed that magic was something that anybody could choose to learn. He never understood the nature of magic. Magic is, in many ways, like an element of nature, like fire, water or air. It is all around us, in everything and everyone. It is one of the building blocks of this world. What your father didn't understand more than anything is that it is simply a force with no will of its own - no evil or corrupting influence. Like fire can be used to burn down a house, kill a person, warm a room or light a path - so too can magic be used to harm or help depending on who uses it and why. If someone burned down your house, you wouldn't claim that fire was inherently evil and condemn anyone who used it to so much as light a candle. With his actions, Uther made magic into something that corrupts. If you forbade the knowledge of how to light fires, those few people with that knowledge would have an advantage over everyone else - a sort of forbidden power. Power corrupts, but nothing corrupts like a power you must keep hidden."

Arthur had never heard anyone speak of magic like this. Is this what all sorcerers believed?

Emrys continued, "But magic is not quite the same as the base elements. There is a certain amount of magic inside every person that they can control like they would a muscle. The average person does not have enough magic in them to change anything in the world around them and that's where the study of sorcery comes in. There are two parts to studying sorcery - connecting the magic inside you to the magic around you, and learning spells to focus the magic into actions. Since most people do not have enough of their own magic to do spells, they cannot do any magic until they learn to connect their magic to the magic around them. The more skilled they are at this, the more magic they can bring under their control and the more powerful spells they will be able to cast."

Arthur was getting a little bit uncomfortable with where Emrys was going with this. He has asked the man why he chose to study magic, not how to study magic. However, his curiosity prevented him from interrupting as Emrys kept talking.

"An average person must study for years before they are able to draw enough magic to cast even simple spells. Before the purge it was a common thing that anyone who was interested and willing to put a lot of work into studied, but not many people choose that now. But there are also some people who have more magic than average. When a person has enough magic naturally inside them to cast simple spells, they are called a warlock. Such a person can use magic without learning how to connect to the magic in the world around them, but if they haven't studied spells they have no control over what the magic does. Usually it reacts to their emotions, especially fear and anger. The more magic a person has, the bigger magic they can do purely by accident."

Arthur was blown away by this. Was it true that people could do magic by accident? That some people couldn't help it? Arthur turned to Emrys, almost expecting the man to show some indication that he had just said something earth-shattering, though Arthur didn't know what he expected to see. But Emrys showed no signs of stopping his lecture.

"Before the purge, such people were identified as children and brought up studying magic from a young age, so that they would be able to control it and because they had potential to become the strongest of magic users. Since the purge removed structured education on magic, most warlocks today must fend for themselves. They usually discover that they can do magic outside of their control sometime between late childhood and early adulthood, at which point they have very few options. They can try to hide and live in fear, hoping that they are never discovered, or they can seek someone to teach them sorcery so they can control it. This is safer in that they can stop doing accidental magic and can use magic to defend themselves or escape if they are caught, however it usually requires them to either join the druids or a band of outlaws. It is not only dangerous to be part of such groups, but at the same time that they teach you magic, they will also teach you their way of life. With the druids this isn't a problem but with most other sources of magical knowledge out there now, this includes a huge helping of revenge against all those who oppress them."

Emrys stopped talking for a moment before seeming to gather his thoughts, and pressed on with a slight change in tone.

"But you asked me why I decided to study magic. I was always, well, different. I have a much more natural magic than anyone ever has before. Most people with a lot of magic discover it during childhood at the earliest and can't use it purposely until they have been taught spells. But I was born using magic. I could move objects with my mind before I would walk or talk. I also had unusual control over my magic despite having had no one to teach me. I still did a lot of magic by accident, but for as long as I can remember I was able to make things happen just by concentrating on what I wanted. One day I managed to get my hands on a book of magic so technically that is when I started studying sorcery, although I had already been using magic for as long as I could remember. In answer to your question, I decided to study magic because that is how I was born and I wanted to embrace it and learn to control it rather than letting it control me."

Emrys' last line was delivered with confidence and a hint of something that Arthur could only identify as joy, as though Emrys had wanted to say that for a long time.

Arthur found himself at a loss for what to say. If what Emrys said was true, it changed everything he knew about magic and sorcerers. It would be easy for him to dismiss it as lies if it wasn't for fact that it would explain a lot of things. Arthur had never understood why so many people chose to study magic, knowing perfectly well that it was against the law, and then claimed that Camelot was unjustly persecuting them. If they had no choice in the matter, suddenly it made a whole lot more sense. And it also explained the existence of Emrys, who still appeared to mean Arthur no harm as he walked beside him, now in silence.

But if it really was true, Arthur almost didn't want to think about what that meant. Because all this time that his father and, even he himself, had been fighting against magic thinking that they were stopping power-hungry people from hurting others, if in reality they had been killing people simply for how they were born…

Arthur didn't want to think about that.

Or what it could mean for the future. Because if magic really was something that people couldn't help having, how could he continue to outlaw it? And yet, how could he allow magic back into the kingdom, knowing the harm it could cause? It frightened him to no end that he found himself even considering it.

He needed to think. Away from Emrys and back in Camelot where he could discuss these things with those he trusted to tell him when he was being unreasonable. Perhaps Merlin would put him straight and tell him exactly how much of an idiot he was for even thinking about this.

They had both been walking in silence for a while and Arthur had the impression that Emrys was a bit tense, waiting for him to say something. He couldn't bring himself to keep pursuing the topic of magic and, casting around for a change in topic, he eventually said, "Do you have any food left in that bag?"

They spent the rest of the day either walking in silence or talking about mundane things like where they would stop to rest for the night, carefully avoiding any difficult subjects. It seemed that neither of them really wanted to bring up magic again and as Arthur curled up to sleep that night using his rolled-up cloak as a pillow, he could almost forget that the man lying on the other side of the fire was even a sorcerer.

* * *

 **Notes:**

 **Arthur's views on magic in the show are up for some interpretation. I believe that he fluctuates a lot over the course of the series between questioning his father's opinions/thinking that magic might not be as bad as everyone says, and hating magic when he sees proof that re-enforces his father's teachings. This story is set long enough after Uther's death that the "magic is evil" conviction he had from that incident has softened a bit and he has slipped back into his more natural way of thinking about magic with more dislike and distrust than burning hatred. This is just a bit of an explanation for people who think he was being too pro- or anti-magic; it's just where I feel he was at during this time in his life.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The next day was uneventful as they continued back to Camelot. As they walked, they chatted amiably. Emrys actually made for quite an amusing conversation partner, making the time it took for the journey to seem much shorter than if he had been alone. Talking to Emrys came surprisingly naturally and Arthur couldn't quite get past the feeling of unreality that he was talking with quite possibly the most powerful sorcerer he had ever encountered as if they were friends. However, there was still some tension in the air. Arthur could tell that Emrys was deliberately avoiding mentioning anything that could give a clue as to his identity and every time silence fell between them he found his mind slipping back into his swirling thoughts of the implications of the things that Emrys had claimed. A part of Arthur felt like he should question Emrys further, before he disappeared, either to find out who he was or to try to get him to say something that would either disprove or support the claims he made about the nature of magic. But Arthur found he was much more comfortable not trying to prod deeper. As for Emrys, he seemed to feel that he had had his say and made no attempts to bring up the topic of magic again.

When they arrived at the edge of the forest outside of Camelot, Emrys stopped walking.

"You should be fine on your own from here."

Arthur decided to ignore the rather irritating implication that he had not been fine on his own up to this point, because he was hit with the sudden knowledge that this was the last he would see of Emrys. From now on, he would be hidden in plain sight among the many people of Camelot - a powerful sorcerer amongst his family, friends, acquaintances and citizens. Suddenly, the idea of not knowing seemed unbearable and he blurted out, "Who are you? Please, tell me!"

"I have already said that I cannot tell you now," Emrys said, though he didn't sound very happy about that himself, "One day, Arthur. One day, I hope you will see me for who I really am, but it is not today."

Arthur stared into the darkness of the hood, once again trying in vain to see who the man mere feet away from him really was. Arthur had the strange urge to reach out and grab onto him, as if he could tell by the feel of the man's arm who he really was. It was a ridiculous notion but Arthur was grasping for straws. He took a step towards the sorcerer. There must be something he could do, some way to get him to reveal himself.

"Arthur, you have to get those leaves to Gaius and I'm not leaving this spot," said Emrys, crossing his arms.

Arthur sighed and gave up, because there really was nothing he could do. Reluctantly, he turned and made his way back to the citadel alone.

He was surprised when the guards on the gate did not react when they saw him, other than their usual bow of respect. There was no commotion over the fact that he had returned, excitement for the success of his mission or questions as to what had happened to the men he had ridden out with. Apparently their king returning alone and on foot from a dangerous mission he had left for on horseback with five knights did not warrant any special attention. But Arthur had more important things to worry about, namely, getting the leaves to Gaius.

On the way to the castle, Arthur was surprised to find that a pyre had been constructed in the courtyard. Who had ordered that built? Arthur had never liked that form of execution and had no intention of using it during his reign as king, but he supposed some council members must have taken dealing out punishments into their own hands during his absence. But he could deal with that minor annoyance later. It was not like an execution was going on at that moment. He could just berate his councillors later for being the presumptuous egotists that they were, after he had dealt with more urgent matters.

Arthur made his way immediately to Gaius' chambers. He skipped knocking and simply burst in to find Gaius grinding something with his mortar and pestle with a gloomy look on his face. However, his reaction to Arthur's arrival was less enthusiastic than Arthur had expected.

"Sire, do you need something?"

"What?" Arthur was momentarily stunned, "I got the leaves for the cure."

Arthur handed the sack of leaves to Gaius. Shouldn't it be pretty obvious that was why he was here?

"Why didn't you give these to me before?" Gaius said, sounding shocked and confused.

"What are you talking about? Can you make the cure?"

"Yes, it shouldn't take long now that I have the active ingredient," Gaius replied, staring at the leaves as though he couldn't believe that they were really there.

"Good. I want you to get on that right away. I need to speak to Guinevere," Arthur called back as he went out the door.

Gaius, who had pulled out a knife and had started chopping the leaves, called after Arthur, "But Sire…"

Arthur let the door swing shut behind him and didn't stay to hear whatever Gaius wanted to say. Gaius needed to make the cure and Arthur had to let Guinevere know he was back safe and make a statement to the council.

He was a bit surprised that Guinevere hadn't come running to greet him already. Surely someone must have informed her that he had returned. For that case, he was surprised Merlin hadn't made an appearance yet. Where was that idiot?

When his ever-present shadow had still not appeared by the time he reached Guinevere's home, he resolved that he would have to go looking for Merlin after speaking to her. If he was in the tavern at a time like this, he was going to wish he had never been born.

But thoughts of all the chores he could dump on Merlin vanished from his mind when he entered Guinevere's home to find her lying in bed, awake but staring ahead vacantly, with a young woman pressing a wet cloth to her forehead. She had the sickness.

"Guinevere, are you alright?" He asked, rushing to her bed.

"Arthur," she moved her eyes to look at him but seemed to be too weak to make any other movements. "I'm no better or worse."

"Don't worry. Gaius is making the cure as we speak and you will be good as new in no time."

"What do you mean? I thought you couldn't get the leaves?"

Did she really have so little faith in him?

"I did get the leaves. I'm sorry it took me so long to return but I gave them to Gaius just a moment ago, as soon as I got back."

"But Arthur, you returned two days ago and said that the grove of Japnas trees had burned down."

What?

"Guinevere," Arthur started but didn't know how he was going to finish. Her illness must be worse than he thought if she was hallucinating. "I think you must be a bit confused."

"I am sick, not stupid. You have been to see me several times in the last couple days. Tell him Bethany!"

Arthur looked at the other woman, assuming that was who she was referring to. Bethany turned bright red and lowered her eyes, bowed her head and spoke, "Your highness, she speaks correctly. You returned to the citadel not two days past."

Arthur wanted to question them further, but he looked down at the woman he loved and saw her struggling for a moment to keep her eyes open, before losing the battle and nodding off to sleep. He got the impression that her sudden burst of indignation had been more than her weakened body could handle. He decided to leave her to rest and seek answers elsewhere. Surely there must be some simple explanation. He headed to the throne room, intending to summon a council meeting and demand answers because at least one of his councillors ought to know what was going on. Besides, it wasn't like he knew where to start looking for Merlin.

"Gather the councillors," Arthur said to the guards standing outside the throne room. They looked at him as though surprised to see him before leaving to obey his orders. Wondering again why everybody had been acting surprised by everything he said or did since his return, Arthur pushed open the doors, intending to wait in the empty throne room for the others to arrive with some answers.

But he didn't have to wait because the throne room was not empty. Alone in the room, lounging on the king's throne, twirling his crown in his hands as though it was his favourite toy, sat King Arthur.

Arthur felt like he had just walked into a dream. For a moment he thought that might actually be what had happened before he convinced himself that he really was awake. But he was seeing himself from across the room and while that did answer some of the questions about what Guinevere said, it brought up far more worrying questions. Maybe he was ill and hallucinating as well now?

As soon as Arthur entered, the other Arthur had looked up and grinned. He stood up, putting the crown he was holding on his head, and walked towards Arthur, speaking casually, "Well, well. I wondered whether you would show up or whether you had gotten yourself killed on that stupid quest."

Arthur gathered his wits. This was no hallucination - this was an enemy. At least that was what he was going to have to work with because that was the only version of this that he was able to deal with the way he knew how. He drew his sword and pointed it at his imposter, and putting as much authority as he could in his voice, he demanded, "Who are you?"

The man simply laughed and said, "Behepsé faes."

His eyes glowed golden and the door behind Arthur shut and locked itself.

"My name is Rothgard and I am the new King Arthur of Camelot."

Arthur brandished his sword meaningfully and said, "Stand down, and I will show you mercy."

Rothgard just looked at him like he was an insect. He waved his hand and with a flash of his eyes, Arthur's sword was flung across the room. With an incantation and another flash of gold, Arthur was on his knees and unable to move. Rothgard bent down and pulled a small orange flask out of his pocket. He held Arthur nose and poured the potion down his throat. Despite Arthur's resistance, he was forced to swallow.

The effect was instantaneous. He was freed from the spell holding him, but collapsed onto the floor unable to move for an entirely different reason. Pain shot through every fibre of his body. It was as though he had been set on fire but without the flames or smoke. He couldn't think - he couldn't even feel fear or anger, only pain. And then suddenly it stopped. There was not even any soreness or any other indication that the pain had ever been there. Panting for breath, Arthur tried to quickly climb back to his feet, but something was wrong. He felt strangely unbalanced and fell over. Pushing himself back up from the ground, Arthur paused, in spite of his current situation, at the shock of seeing his own arms. His own arms which should have been tanned and muscular were instead pale and thin as twigs. He looked up to see Rothgard smiling.

"And now I am the only King Arthur of Camelot."

And Arthur understood. Reaching a hand up to his head, he felt curly hair instead of straight and a face that wasn't his own. The potion had changed his appearance. This was not good. This was very not good. Completely at the mercy of a man who was both a powerful sorcerer and the king of Camelot, the only plan Arthur could come up with was to get him talking and stall, maybe even try to reason with him.

"What did you do to me?" he asked.

"It's the same potion I took to look like you. It is made from the blood of the person you want to turn into."

Arthur got to his feet, taking more care this time and feeling out how to balance in his new body, which seemed to be much shorter than his original.

"Where did you get my blood from?"

"It wasn't easy. It took me three years to learn that leech mind-control spell," Rothgard said with a laugh and no apparent inclination to explain further.

"Was it you who sent the illness?"

"No, that's a normal sickness. I've just been waiting for a chance to make my move. With you off on some mission and half my subjects ill, it was the perfect opportunity to take over. No one even noticed."

Arthur tried not to bristle when Rothgard said "my subjects". He had to try to reason with him, not argue over semantics.

"Why are you doing this? Do you want revenge for my father's purge? Or to make magic legal in Camelot?"

"I couldn't care less about those things." Rothgard scoffed, "I'm not even from Camelot. If the sorcerers of this land couldn't fight back against mere swords and arrows they deserved to be slaughtered. I'm here for the power."

Arthur was seriously reconsidering his plan of trying to reason with this person. But Rothgard seemed to have found a topic that he actually wanted to discuss because he kept going.

"I have known for as long as I can remember that I deserve to have power - to have people bow down to me. I have spent my whole life studying magic in order to make that a reality. I am more powerful than your puny mind could ever comprehend! And yet why do I not rule lands, own riches and command armies? Because other people are stupid and do not understand that I should have these things! When I tried to take Odin's throne, the other sorcerers in his kingdom stood against me. But just because I am from Odin's lands does not mean I am particular that I must rule there. When it was clear to me that I alone could not overcome the sorcerers loyal to Odin, I set my sights on another kingdom. And what better one than Camelot - the kingdom that brags of having driven sorcery from the realm! There is no one here that could even come close to posing a challenge to me! I was able to just walk in and take the kingdom as though it had been handed to me on a silver platter. The fact that there was no resistance is only proof that I was always meant to rule this land!"

Rothgard took a breath and seemed to have every intention of continuing his rant, but was cut off by a knocking on the door. Presumably the councillors were wondering why they had been called here and then locked out.

Rothgard took the time to send Arthur a mocking smirk, which was disturbing for Arthur to see on his own face, before he threw open the door and ran out into the hallways shouting, "Guards, arrest that man! He's a sorcerer!"

Two guards rushed forwards and grabbed Arthur. He tried to throw them off but to no avail, as his current body was lacking in the muscles he was used to. He turned to his councillors and saw them backing up in fear. He focussed on the one man he knew he could trust more than any of them.

"Agravaine! It's me, Arthur! I'm the real king Arthur! This man is a sorcerer disguised as me!"

Even Arthur could hear how unbelievable that sounded and couldn't even blame Agravaine for scowling at him and not even dignifying his outburst with a reply before turning to Rothgard and asking, "Are you alright, my lord?"

"Yes, he tried to attack me, but thankfully the guards returned just in time," Rothgard replied, "He is a danger every moment he is alive. We must execute him at once."

"Well then it is fortunate we have a pyre ready to use," Agravaine said, "the other execution can be postponed."

"Yes, it is a lucky coincidence, isn't it," said Rothgard with a nasty glance at Arthur that no one else seemed to notice that said in no uncertain terms that it was no coincidence.

Arthur found himself being led out to the courtyard by his own guards. He tried several more times to reason with them but, not surprisingly, no one was listening to the mad ramblings of a condemned sorcerer claiming to be the king. After what Arthur felt was a particularly good argument in his favour, the guards paused and, to his horror, gagged him, while muttering about how he was trying to enchant them to doubt their king.

Arthur could not remember ever feeling so much panic as he did as he was led out to the pyre. A drumbeat played in the background and villagers were gathering around to see what was happening. Arthur looked into their faces and saw no pity. They stared back at him - some unfeeling, some curious and some with expressions of hatred and contempt. These people had no idea that it was their king they were about to watch die. They had no idea that they were now ruled by a king who cared about nothing but his own power. Arthur couldn't allow his people to suffer such a fate. He had to get out of this and warn his people that their king was an imposter. Then they all looked up at the balcony and Arthur, following their gaze, saw Rothgard had come out to speak to the people.

"This man is guilty of practicing magic and I, King Arthur, have declared that such practices are banned on penalty of death. As punishment for breaking our most important laws he will be burned at the stake."

Now Arthur was really panicking as he was shoved roughly onto a pile of wood and tied to a stake. He has never felt more sympathy with those of magic than in this moment. How could his father have done this to so many people? How could a sorcerer of all people condemn another man to such a fate? And it sounded like Rothgard wasn't even planning to do anything to help any of his fellow magic users. Did the man have no conscience? And more importantly, how was he going to get out of this? He couldn't fight back with no weapons or muscles and there was no one to save him. He thought briefly of Emrys but all hope of another miraculous magical rescue was crushed with the realization that even if Emrys did come here, all he would see was King Arthur condemning a magic user to the flames. After everything Emrys had said, to see Arthur execute a sorcerer immediately after his return would seem like a declaration by Arthur that he stood by his father's ideals. The more he thought about his situation the worse it seemed to get. Emrys could retaliate against Camelot for Rothgard's actions. As if it wasn't bad enough to think of his people being ruled by a tyrant in his body, it was possible that they could all be killed in vengeance against that tyrant by an all-powerful sorcerer!

Then he thought of Guinevere and what an imposter in his body might do with her and he found himself hoping in desperation that Emrys would see this after all and explode "King Arthur's" head.

Arthur decided to believe that Emrys would not hurt his people and that the imposter would be assassinated by Emrys before he could do any real damage to the kingdom because it was the only comfort he could give himself for his last moments. Arthur was not a man who easily gave up, but as he took in the ropes binding him, the guards surrounding him, and a man with a torch walking towards him, he was drawing a complete blank on escape plans.

The torch was lowered onto the wood and after a moment, it lit.

The fire spread quickly from the bottom of the wood stack to the center where Arthur stood. He felt his eyes streaming from the smoke before the flames even reached him. The heat around his legs was getting intense and he knew the flames were getting close even without looking down. He wondered if he would be engulfed by the fire or choked by the smoke first. He had seen many executions and knew that either could happen depending on how the wood burned. But he didn't know which death would be more painful and he wished that he could think of something else in his final moments other than the pain that would be the last thing he felt in this world.

And then, all of a sudden, the fire was out. The flames seemed to recede into themselves, shrinking until there was nothing left. The smoke dispersed away from the pyre as through a strong wind had blown it outwards in a perfect circle away from Arthur. And then Arthur saw, standing on the pyre beside him, Emrys.

Emrys released him from his bonds with a wave of his hands. And then Arthur heard screaming. Looking out he saw the crowd of people panicking, running to flee the scene in terror. Emrys grabbed Arthur's arm and pulled him into the crowd, running in the direction with the fewest people. Arthur struggled to keep up, growing more frustrated with this out of shape body the sorcerer had given him by the moment. Why couldn't he have chosen to turn him into Percival?

When they had gotten away from the mass of people, Emrys turned briefly around and the dozen or so guards following them were thrown back and knocked unconscious. They kept running and were soon tucked away behind some closed shops, safe from pursuers, at least for now.

As he had considered what Emrys would do in response to King Arthur suddenly ordering an execution, he hadn't thought that Emrys might rescue the sorcerer. But of course he would. This was perfect. Now, if only he could convince Emrys of what had really happened.

"That's not the real King Arthur! It's a sorcerer in disguise! I'm the real Arthur!"

"I know."

Well that was easy.

"You do? How did you know?"

"Magic."

Arthur actually rolled his eyes at that.

"Magic?"

"I could sense that something was wrong. When I truly looked at you I could see that you were the real Arthur."

Arthur wasn't sure he even wanted to know what he meant by "truly looked at you". But now he was free and had an ally and it was time to make plans and save his kingdom. Now, first things first.

"We need to find Merlin. If anyone would believe any of this, he would."

"Oh," said Emrys sounding surprised, "you won't find Merlin."

"Why not?"

"Because… he is," Ermys was speaking annoyingly slowly, "in the forest," he finished after a pause.

"What do you mean he's in the forest?"

"I found him after you left me. He was collecting herbs and was struck by the illness so now he's unconscious in the woods."

"And you just left him there?"

"I could sense that he was in no danger."

Arthur hoped that was true. Emry's mysterious "sense" had seemed to work for identifying the real Arthur so he was going to have to trust that Merlin would be ok. Why did that stupid idiot have to go and get sick just when Arthur needed him?

A new idea occurred to Arthur.

"Can you change me back?"

"You want me to use magic on you?"

"Can you?"

Emrys seemed to need to think about that and just as Arthur was expecting him to say that he couldn't do it, he leaped as though suddenly struck with something, exclaiming, "Oh!" and reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small vial of blue liquid, which he held up triumphantly.

"This should do it!"

Arthur couldn't decide whether he was more relieved or suspicious.

"That's the cure?"

"It is a potion that reverses the effects of powerful transformation spells. It is really hard to make but has the power to turn any person back to their proper form even when no other magic can change them back."

Suspicion was winning. This was just way too convenient.

"And you just happened to have that in your pocket?"

"I like to have it on me whenever there is a chance I might need to use an ageing spell. The one time I didn't 'just happen to have it in my pocket' I got stuck as an old man."

Well, ok then. Maybe it was normal for sorcerers to just carry random potions about with them. Arthur took the vial and uncapped it. He brought it to his mouth and hesitated several times, his body itself seemed to reject the idea of pouring the potion down his own throat. That last potion he took had given pain beyond belief but he was willing to go through that again if it meant regaining his true body. He downed the potion in one gulp.

He knew immediately that this was different than last time. There was no all-encompassing pain. Instead he felt like all of his muscles were being pulled and worked as though in a tough training session, and his bones seemed to all embody the sensation he associated with cracking one's knuckles. It would have been incredibly unpleasant if he hadn't been expecting something much worse. When the sensations stopped he felt stiff as though he had been lying in one position for a long time.

As he stretched to rid himself of the lingering stiffness, he was delighted to recognise his own arms, and feel his own hair when he ran his hand through it.

"So what's the plan?" asked Emrys.

Arthur didn't answer immediately but paced back and forth, thinking quickly. Rothgard's plan had been nearly foolproof, but he had not counted on Arthur having magical help, which gave him an advantage. He needed to take advantage of this hole in his enemy's defence before the false king had time to patch it. But first he needed to take stock of his resources. He turned to Emrys.

"Are you more powerful than the sorcerer impersonating me? Could you defeat him?"

"Probably," Emrys responded.

Arthur decided to assume that meant yes. Although the response was less than a definite assurance, the tone of voice it was delivered with betrayed the man's confidence.

"And you will fight for me?" asked Arthur.

"Yes."

Arthur spared only a moment for gratitude for the declaration of allegiance. His resources were pretty good, all things considered, since he had the more powerful magic on his side, but there was one major advantage Rothgard had over him - he had the support and trust of his people and knights.

"We need to convince people that I am the real Arthur," he said out loud.

If Emrys and Arthur defeated the imposter before the truth was revealed it would appear to all as though two sorcerers has just killed "King Arthur" and disguised one of them to take his place. Emrys seemed to understand this dilemma as well, as he nodded solemnly. He did not say anything though and continued waiting for Arthur to reveal his plan.

"There are," Arthur paused before continuing, due to absurdity of how the statement he was making was referring to himself, "two dangerous sorcerers on the loose in the citadel. So there will be an emergency council meeting in session. The 'King' will be in the main council chambers with the counsellors and most trusted knights. We will march in and make them believe that I am the real Arthur!"

"The direct approach," said Emrys amicably.

"I know things that only the real Arthur should know. And if they don't believe me, you can attack him. If he defends himself with magic that should be pretty good proof that they should listen to me. Just make sure you don't kill him until we know that people are convinced."

With a plan decided on, the two of them snuck back towards the castle. Arthur's mind was focussed, as it usually was as he led infiltration missions. For the first time since he was captured by bandits several days ago, Arthur felt in charge and in his element.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

They made it to the corridor outside the council chamber without incident. When they stepped into the view of the two guards standing outside the large oak doors, the man of higher rank shouted, "It's the imposter! Bar the door! Protect the king!"

Arthur hadn't even had time to draw his sword as the guard moved towards him before the two of them were suddenly shoved back by an invisible force and hit the doors, sliding down to the floor unconscious.

One thing was certain, they had been warned to expect someone posing as King Arthur. But as their shouting had almost certainly alerted everyone in the room to their presence it was essential that they gain entry before a defence could be mounted. But even as Arthur turned to Emrys, the man was already raising his hand towards the doors, which flew open, sparks erupting from the iron lock.

Arthur ran ahead of Emrys, down the rest of the hallway and into the room. He had only the briefest glimpse of knights pulling out swords, councillors fleeing out of the back entrances and Rothgard poised as though he had just thrown something before his brain registered that there was a knife flying straight towards him. He had no time to respond to this threat in the space of a heartbeat that he had left before it reached him, but beyond his control, he felt his left arm fly up in front of him as though it had been yanked on a chain. The knife stopped right before his hand and fell to the floor harmlessly.

Arthur turned to Emrys, only to see the man enter the room behind him an instant later. But if Emrys had only just caught up to him this moment, who had magically stopped the knife in the instant when Arthur had entered ahead of him?

"Arrest the sorcerers!" cried Rothgard.

The knights ran to circle Arthur and Emrys, moving carefully and watching them so attentively that they were barely blinking. Arthur saw that Leon, Gwaine, Elyan and Percival had returned from their patrol to the north, as they were among the knights surrounding him. It was to them that he looked as he spoke.

"I'm the real king Arthur! That man is the imposter," Arthur pointed at Rothgard, "he has been fooling you!"

"Don't listen to him!" Rothgard called out, "He is the imposter! You saw him use magic with your own eyes! Remember what I told you! Don't listen to a thing he says or he will enchant you with his words!"

Arthur suddenly understood how the knife had stopped. Rothgard must have thrown it at him and then stopped it himself in order to make it seem like Arthur had done the magic.

"No, that wasn't me!" cried Arthur, "He stopped the knife! I'm the real Arthur!"

The knights did not look like they were affected at all by his words and Arthur realized that he was doing a pretty poor job of giving them any reason at all to believe him. He recognized in Gwaine's poise, from years of training sessions, that the man was about to lunge forward and attack. Trust Gwaine to always be the first to leap into any battle. He needed to stop him now before he ended up fighting his own men.

"You attacked the Wilddeoren, Gwaine!" he shouted, addressing the man directly and saying the first thing that popped into his head, "in the tunnels of Andor. Even though I told you not to. Remember, Gwaine? How would I know that? I'm telling the truth!"

Gwaine did not attack, but he appeared to be staying his hand more out of surprise at Arthur talking to him than because he was heeding his words.

"And almost every tavern-goer within Camelot has heard me re-enact that story," said Gwaine, "Don't think you can fool me."

"I made you do double sword drills last week because you turned up for training late!" Arthur continued racking his brain and wishing he had more time to think of something more convincing to bring up, "I made you and Merlin polish the entire army's boots when we first met."

His words seemed to be doing nothing but irritating Gwaine and his mind was blank for anything to say that no one but the two of them could know. He turned to his other knights, still saying the first things that popped into his head, "Percival, the cook has a fit if she finds you anywhere near the kitchens because of the multiple times you stole chickens. Elyan, when you were kids you told Guinevere that if she told lies it would make her hair fall out. Leon, you caught the flu from me when I was a kid and had to miss the celebrations for your own knighthood."

Arthur thought he could see flashes of doubt in the eyes of the knights he had addressed but it seemed Rothgard was not going to let him continue.

"I told you not to listen to the sorcerer! There is magic in his words. He will muddle your minds and make you hear anything that will make you doubt your true king!" Rothgard announced, "Take him now before he can do any real damage!"

Arthur looked at Emrys. If the knights wouldn't listen to his words, they needed to force the false king to defend himself with magic. Understanding his look, Emrys raised his hand towards Rothgard and a bolt of orange light shot out of his palm. Rothgard made no move to dodge or defend himself and was hit squarely in the chest. He fell backwards and groaned as he sat back up, but otherwise appeared unharmed. Arthur cursed himself for not realizing that Rothgard might be clever enough to anticipate an attack with non-lethal magic and determined enough to let himself be hit by it. His enemy was more quick-thinking than Arthur had counted on and he was starting to realize that he may have rushed into this situation without enough strategizing.

The knights were instantly agitated by the attack on their "king". Gwaine yelled in anger and lunged forward, swinging his sword at Emrys. An instant later he was skidding across the floor, still conscious but knocked back by Emrys' magic. Before Gwaine had even stopped sliding, the other knights had already moved in for the attack. Arthur blocked attacks with his sword, while Emrys continued to fling attackers away with magic that only stunned them momentarily.

"Sir Caradoc, your wife is with child and your mother is convinced that it will be a girl because her morning sickness is really bad," Arthur said, while blocking a blow from the man in question, before the man was pushed away by magic and he turned to a new opponent, "Sir Ector, your cape caught fire on your last patrol while you were getting soup from the cooking pot."

As Sir Ector was also thrown back by magic, Arthur saw the knight he had known the longest stand from where he had been magically tossed and re-enter the fray, he tried again to get through to him, "Leon, when I used the Le Fay house tapestry as a target for knife-throwing practice, you claimed it was you who did it to get me out of trouble!"

Leon actually stopped in his tracks. He closed his eyes and shook his head several times as though trying to shake something off, before opening his eyes and striding forward looking more determined than ever.

Whatever Rothgard had told his knights before he came in about his ability to enchant them with words must have been pretty convincing because there is no other way Leon could ignore an argument so good that Arthur had actually been about to congratulate himself for remembering it on the spot. Only he and Leon knew the truth about that incident with the tapestry, but Leon seemed to have convinced himself that he had imagined Arthur's words about it.

Arthur racked his brains for anything that would be more convincing than the things he had already said. It seemed that it wasn't enough to just quote facts that only the real Arthur could know when the knights were all operating under the irrefutable assumption that he was a sorcerer based on seeing him "use magic" the moment he entered the room. Meanwhile, the fight could not go on for much longer or else all of the knights were going to end up unconscious from the number of times they were being flung back by magic and he needed them awake to convince them that he was the real Arthur.

Before Arthur could think of a new strategy, however, he was distracted by the sound of Emrys, who had been using silent magic up until now, chanting spells behind him. He turned around to see that Emrys had summoned a ring of fire in an empty space of the floor, large enough to encapsulate a single knight. Gwaine lay pinned flat on the ground within the circle, struggling to move against invisible bonds. His own sword hovered above him, inches from his throat.

The other knights all stopped moving and tensed. Arthur understood why - the sorcerer could kill Gwaine with a thought, and even if they were to kill Emrys, the magic holding the sword aloft would fail and it would fall and kill him just the same.

"Enough of this!" Emrys spoke to Rothgard, putting a sarcastic emphasis on the title of address, " _King Arthur_ , you will bow down before me or watch your knights die one by one before your very eyes."

"What are you doing?!" shouted Arthur. This was not in the plan!

"Do you honestly think that you could use the life of a knight to buy that of a king?" scoffed Rothgard.

The knights looked shocked by that, suddenly looking at Rothgard with deep suspicion and glancing back and forth between Rothgard, Emrys and Arthur as though unsure what to think.

"So be it," said Emrys darkly, as he raised his hand towards Gwaine, "bael acwine."

"No!" shouted Arthur, running forwards towards Emrys with no plan in mind but to stop him somehow. He skidded to a halt, however, as the spell took effect and did nothing but cause the ring of fire to recede into itself and disappear. With a wave of Emrys' hand, Gwaine's sword lay itself harmlessly at his side.

The knights were now looking at Rothgard, who had stood by and done nothing, as though seeing him for the first time. Arthur grabbed at the opportunity.

"You see! He is not the real king. You all know I would willingly give my life for any one of you!" he said, almost pleading. (But only almost, he was a king after all.)

"Sire," said Leon hesitantly, glancing back and forth between Arthur and Rothgard as though unsure which of them he was addressing, "which part of the tapestry were you aiming for?"

Arthur looked at Rothgard, who remained silent and was, for the first time, starting to look uncomfortable, before looking back at Leon and answering, "the raven's eye."

Leon's eyes met his and Arthur knew that his old friend recognized him at last.

"It was the eye of the raven, I remember it well," Rothgard interrupted the moment, "he must have somehow used magic to deduce the answer."

Leon glared at him, "then answer me this - what excuse did I give for why I had supposedly been throwing knives at a tapestry?"

Arthur grinned. There was no talking his way out of this now for Rothgard.

"That you were drunk," he said with complete confidence. Arthur had to give him credit, if his answer had happened to be right, no one would have suspected that it had merely been a lucky guess.

"Wrong, I said that I saw an intruder but he managed to dodge all the knives I threw at him," said Leon, who was now brandishing his sword at Rothgard and raised his voice to make sure he had the attention of all the other knights, "This man is an imposter!"

During the exchange, Arthur had seen his knights looking less and less trusting of Rothgard. At Leon's pronouncement, those who had not yet turned their swords in Rothgard's direction did so.

"I'm sorry Sire," said Elyan with a meaningful glance at Arthur stolen from his watchful glare at Rothgard, "for ever doubting you."

Arthur also caught the eyes of several other knights, who bowed their heads solemnly in his direction.

"We will have to make it up to you," said Gwaine, who was gritting his teeth, "by getting rid of this man who would dare to impersonate our king!"

Arthur felt a wave of affection for his knights and their unwavering loyalty.

"In that case I will just have to make sure that no one leaves this room alive," said Rothgard with a maniacal grin.

Emrys stepped forward, "Don't think that I will allow you to hurt any of these people."

"Why are you even here," said Rothgard, looking annoyed, "don't you know that magic is illegal in Camelot?"

"I..." Emrys started, perhaps about to point out how hypocritical that statement was, which is what Arthur would have done, but he never got to finish whatever he was going to say because it appeared that Rothgard had only asked his question as a means of momentarily distracting the other sorcerer.

"Hrof ahreosath," he shouted, looking up at the ceiling.

With a mighty crack, the roof above them collapsed. Arthur instinctively crouched down and lifted his arms to shield himself from the massive falling debris, for all the good it would do him. When nothing hit him a moment later, he looked up to see Emrys beside him, holding both hands above his head, below a layer of the remains of the roof, which was hovering in the air.

"Forp fleoge," Rothgard shouted, pointing at Emrys.

Presumably too occupied to defend himself fast enough, Emrys went flying backwards and hit the wall behind him with a painful sounding thud, before falling forward onto his knees. Arthur flinched as the ceiling debris dropped another few feet from where it was floating, before it thankfully stopped its decent once more.

Rothgard did not allow Emrys even a moment to recover, as he screamed, "Forbearne," and threw a ball of fire that appeared in his hand in Emrys' direction.

But Emrys wasn't going to be caught off-guard again. Rolling to the side to avoid the fireball, he shouted, "Hrof befliege."

The ceiling debris flung itself in the direction of Rothgard, who lifted his hands and shouted something that was completely drowned out by the crashing of stone masonry all around him turning the whole back area of the room into a pile of rubble.

As the dust settled, and Emrys regained his feet, Arthur walked forward to ascertain Rothgard's fate. Even when he got close to the edge of the debris he could see nothing but pieces of his ruined castle roof. Rothgard must have been crushed beneath it all. At least that was what he thought until a sudden force pulled his sword right out of his hand. It flew forward and was caught by the outstretched hand of Rothgard, who had in that moment appeared from behind a large chunk of stone. He had bleeding cuts on his face and was covered in dust, but must have shielded himself from the brunt of the attack. The man leapt at Arthur and strong arms spun him around and held his own sword to his throat.

For a moment Arthur felt surprise at how strong Rothgard was, which turned into an ego boost as he remembered that the sorcerer was in his body and those were his muscles, before he reminded himself that he had more important matters to be considering at the moment.

"Nobody move," instructed Rothgard before speaking specifically to Emrys, "you, sorcerer, if you don't wish to see your king's headless corpse, then you will not defend yourself."

Rothgard seemed to have realized that he was out of his league and could only win using coward's tricks. Tightening his hold on Arthur with the arm of the hand that was holding the sword, Rothgard lifted his left hand to point at Emrys and began a spell, "Baewylm amyr…"

But Arthur was no damsel in distress and if Rothgard thought that he could hold the king of Camelot hostage without even using both hands, he was severely mistaken. Arthur rammed his elbow into Rothgard's kidneys, causing him to cut off his spell and double forward in pain. Then he yanked his sword out of the man's hand, spun round, and plunged it into his stomach.

Rothgard made a choking noise as he grabbed onto Arthur, unable to support his own weight anymore. Arthur gripped Rothgard's shoulder and pushed back on it while he pulled his blood soaked sword out of the man's body, causing him to fall backwards. It was a bizarre sight to see himself lie dying on the floor, bleeding and broken. Rothgard's eyes were glazing over and his breathing came in short irregular bursts, but before his life slipped from him completely and his chest stilled he used his last breath to whisper, "Forscrife gesweorc."

To Arthur's horror, a black mist started pouring out of the bleeding wound that had killed Rothgard. It was like a scene from one of Arthur's childhood nightmares that he had sometimes suffered after falling asleep to his father's bedtime tales of evil sorcerers and dark curses.

"Get away from there!" Emrys called behind him.

But Arthur really hadn't needed telling and was already backing away as quickly as he could from the growing cloud of darkness that was billowing faster and faster, towards him and his men.

Emrys ran towards the deadly looking mist, saying, "Ic pe gesweorc edhwierft aet frumsceaft."

The cloud slowed and stopped moving forwards, before slowly reversing its motion to recede and pour back into the dead sorcerer's wound, from which it had been billowing out of. The floor that had been under the dark mist became visible as it receded and Arthur saw that it was blackened and corroded as though it had acid poured over it.

When the last wisps of black mist re-entered the stab wound, raw red patches began appearing all over Rothgard's skin, which warped and cracked as more blotches appeared and the existing ones darkened until black as coal. It was as though his skin was being burned from the inside. In a matter of moments, his body resembled a burned corpse. Then the blackened skin, flesh and even the clothes he wore appeared to be melting like fat over a fire and dripping off of his bones onto the floor below. Soon all that remained of Rothgard was a skeleton wearing Arthur's stolen crown, lying in a pool of black sludge.

Arthur stared. Watching his own face darken and melt in such a horrifying manner was not something he imagined he would forget in a hurry. He tore his eyes from the disturbing site in front of him and turned back to his men. The first thing he noticed was the lack of a certain mysterious cloaked sorcerer. Emrys must have ducked out while everyone was focussed on the (admittedly very distracting) effects of Rathgard's backfired dying curse. Arthur found he didn't actually mind. It saved him from having to order his men to either arrest him or allow him to go free, both of which actions would have had unpleasant consequences.

Some of the knights scattered about the room also seemed to take notice of the absence of the other sorcerer judging by the way they were clutching their swords and glancing around as though expecting him to pop out from under the table. Other knights were looking at Arthur with questioning expressions on their faces. The events of the day must have seemed very peculiar from their points of view, Arthur realized.

"Sire," Elyan stepped forward, "what happened?"

Arthur sighed, "It's a long story."


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Arthur stared out of his bedroom window into the courtyard below. Gaius had distributed the cure to all those who had been sick the night before. With time and rest they should soon be back at full health. Arthur had visited Guinevere this morning to find her already up and mending an old dress, in perfectly good spirits. Merlin had also showed up later that day, seemingly completely unaffected by his bout of illness, which was good because Arthur's clothes desperately needed washing, his horses needed mucking out and his room had been a complete mess. That idiot must have been slacking off while Arthur was away even before he got ill.

Merlin had also been good to have around just as a listening ear earlier. Arthur had told his knights and later his counsellors a shortened version of the events of the last few days, in which he made it seem as though Emrys had simply popped up and saved him in the forest and then again on the pyre and in the council chambers. He deliberately left out the parts were Emrys had relentlessly followed him, and spoken with him, and the fact that Emrys lived in Camelot. The counsellors were already terrified enough by the knowledge that Emrys was still at large without adding fuel to the fire. But Arthur had been desperate to get the full story off of his chest and had poured out to Merlin everything that happened. Merlin hadn't judged Arthur the time that he had snuck out to meet with Morgause, or the time he had brought a sorcerer into the castle as his father lay dying, and he wasn't judging him now even after hearing how Arthur had spent the last few days willingly working with a sorcerer.

It was good to have someone to bounce some of his thoughts off of because Arthur had a lot of other things to think about that he did not want to even voice out loud. It had been so easy to feel nothing but empathy for those with magic as he had been tied to the pyre, and if Emrys' claims that magic was not necessarily a choice were true then his own laws were surely unjust. But just or unjust, the laws were there for the protection of the people of Camelot. Arthur had more than enough experience with the harm that magic could cause and how difficult it was to combat. The thought of even lessening the stringency of the laws holding it at bay caused Arthur to imagine a future where magic gained a sturdy foothold in his kingdom, eventually leading to all of his father's work being undone and the world being plunged into a chaos ruled by dark rituals and fear as it had once been.

Arthur could think of no solution that would be more merciful to the hypothetical well-meaning sorcerers that supposedly existed without putting the safety of his entire kingdom at risk. He didn't want to ask for advice on this matter even from Merlin because he felt that to say these things out loud would make the problem real and he would have to admit to himself that he was even considering the status of his kingdom's most definitive laws. He would much rather leave things as they were.

Besides, now was not the time to risk any rumors getting started that he was suddenly getting soft on magic. He didn't know what he would do if the people who knew that there had been a sorcerer impersonating him started to doubt that they had actually ended up with the right Arthur. It was rather unnerving to Arthur that many of his counsellors questioned why he had allowed Emrys to fight Rothgard for him, and yet had reportedly not questioned any of Rothgard's actions as "King Arthur". This included when he had ordered a pyre to be built because a servant was found washing the floor "within listening distance of a classified conversation" and then ordered a "sorcerer" to be burned on it with no trial.

Arthur supposed that none of his council members could be Emrys. They were all so vocally anti-magic that it would surely take more acting skills than anyone could possibly possess to pull off such a feat. Arthur had tried not to think about who in his kingdom could be a sorcerer in disguise, knowing it was pointless and would probably just drive him mad with curiosity, but he still found his mind drifting back to the subject. Emrys had mentioned sending the light to save Arthur in the cave, which would rule out Agravaine, Percival, Gwaine, and Elyan, who had not lived in Camelot at the time. It would also rule out Merlin, who had been dying, and Gwen and Gaius, who had been busy caring for Merlin at the time. This meant that logically Emrys must be someone he did not know well, as opposed to one of his close friends, unless he was…

"Leon!" Arthur said out loud as the idea struck him.

"No, it's Merlin," said a voice behind him.

Arthur turned to see that Merlin had just entered the room and was looking a little surprised at being addressed as "Leon".

"Do you think Leon could be Emrys?" asked Arthur, trying to sound as though he had known Merlin was there the whole time and had meant to speak to him.

"But I thought you said that Leon was in the room when Emrys was fighting Rothgard?" said Merlin, his tone implying that he was questioning Arthur's sanity.

Well, that was admittedly a pretty solid alibi, but Arthur was not going to admit that he hadn't thought of something that was even obvious to Merlin and hurriedly tried to cover his oversight by changing the topic.

"Have you done all your chores?"

"Yes."

"Even the stables?"

"I _am_ aware of the meaning of the word 'all'," Merlin replied, rolling his eyes.

"Good," Arthur said, making it sound as though he found this a huge relief, "I never can be sure with you."

Merlin gave an exasperated sigh.

"Is there anything else you need doing, Sire?" he asked almost politely, before glancing around at Arthur's unruffled bed and untouched food and ruining it by adding, "Or are you too busy brooding to make a mess today?"

"Yes, I do have a job for you," said Arthur, who had been about to let Merlin go for the evening but changed his mind at the insult, "I want you to go and fetch Emrys for me."

"What?"

Merlin's startled response was even better than Arthur had expected.

"Go find Emrys and tell him that I would like to discuss setting up a system for turning disrespectful manservants into toads."

Merlin raised an eyebrow at Arthur's order. Then suddenly his mouth dropped open in shock and he pointed over Arthur's shoulder, "There's Emrys! Right there!"

Arthur quickly turned around, but there was no one there. When he turned back, Merlin was grinning in that irritating way that he does when amused at Arthur's expense.

Arthur picked up a goblet and chucked it at Merlin, who ducked under it and ran out of the room laughing.

* * *

 **Notes:**

 **The sequel to this story, Seeing Through the Shadows, is now posted.**


	7. Sequel

**The sequel to this story, Seeing Through the Shadows is now up.**

 **I am currently working on a third sequel, which I intend to be the last in this series.**


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